


slash & burn

by paintmelilacs



Series: Post-Mortem [3]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Fire, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, intentional lowercase, its slash if you squint, post jasons death, things are hinted at
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:16:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28564146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paintmelilacs/pseuds/paintmelilacs
Summary: leo is a creature of destruction, from the core to the surface and no one so far has managed to convince him otherwise.he’s asked to burn a large area of land. little do some know, his powers have changed since gaea.
Relationships: Nico di Angelo & Leo Valdez, Nico di Angelo/Leo Valdez
Series: Post-Mortem [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2018927
Comments: 5
Kudos: 34





	slash & burn

**Author's Note:**

> adding to this series instead of doing exams because i am a miserable little fuck
> 
> *throws this fic up into ur mouth like a momma bird to its children* here u go reader *mwah* i luv u sm

leo can’t explain why he’s packing a bag, only that he is, and that he planned on using it. 

it just...felt that way. a sixth sense he’d developed over m time; leo could feel it in the weight of his bones and he could smell it in the air—he should pack a bag. just in case.

he shoved everything he could into the black duffel, patching the holes with ductape as he went. leo had more stuff than he could fit in the bag, which is...not a problem he had the privilege of having before. 

leo took everything out of the bag again and assessed it, frozen in thought as he stared down at the abused wooden table in front of him, enchanted tools, necessities, and memorabilia spread out in front, obsessing over the uses snd practicality of each one. a pack of zip-ties sure would be helpful, but is it enough to displace the photograph of him, piper and jason in the strawberry fields?

someone gently knocked on the door frame—for the door had been torn off its rusty hinges itself—and startled leo.

panic seized his chest momentarily at the soft noise. leo fucking hates himself for it. little noises and gentle touches shouldn’t be making his organs do the electric slide. those kind of responses _are_ typically to be expected of children who were the victim of war, though. 

katie gardener stood at the door. she apologized for scaring him.

“what do you need? another watering can repaired? cause the ductape is in the back closet.” leo asked, sleep-deprivation wearing at the edges of his voice.

“no, uhm.” she tucked away a chunk of her hair. “we’ve got this gigantic dead patch a ways out in the fields, and we kind of...need you to do your thing.”

leo scowls. by ‘his thing’ she means that she wants him to set it on fire. _“the new fauna grow better when they sprout up from the ash and soot”_ , or whatever. leo doesn’t really understand how a plant benefits from their home literally being charred, but he doesn’t really _care_ either.

he instead remembers the first time he was asked to do this—back when he was newly reborn and still so scarred from every atom in his body combusting into flame—he’d _screamed_ no.

but leo gave in eventually, (like he always does. his resilience is a worn river rock disguised as a jagged mountain) and he’s done it a number of times since. 

and leo is _healing_. how much can you come back from dying, he does not know, but leo knows he’s getting there. healing, just like the plants cultivating themselves from the ashes. 

well. maybe not sprouting like they are, but definitely not dead yet. 

the boy put on a big black jacket, the kind with the soft fleece inside, and laced up his sneakers, forcing himself out of his cabin, crunching over frosted leaves as he walked.

the sky overhead was vastly grey, had been for a while. winter seemed eternal in new york.

when leo lived in texas, he had legitimately thought winter ended right after christmas. yep. given, he _was_ eight, but more so it was just _that_ _hot_. so hot the abuelos and abuelas would gather and make lemonade for the whole block, and the older kids would break open a fire hydrant so the younger kids had sprinklers to run through. it was so hot all the men would buy new air conditioners every summer, and they would hang out of everyone’s window until the heat ran them dry too.

if leo closed his eyes he thinks he can still feel the texas heat, spreading from the tops of his eyelids to his nose and hands. 

“what are you doing.” it was a muttered statement. leo was startled out of his thoughts and the summer heat on his skin disappeared, replaced by winter cold. 

it was nico. he looked like he was freezing his ass off in just a black long sleeve and torn jeans. 

leo never answered his question. he was too busy drinking in the sight of him.

he looked older. he _was_ older. bushier eye brows, sharper jaw, narrower eyes, a bump in his nose—all contrasted against the grey overhead. it wasn’t the first time leo found him beautiful.

an eyebrow was raised at him. they looked like two fuzzy caterpillars. leo wanted to pluck them. “You look like hell.”

“yeah, well i’ve been busy.” leo snapped. 

“busy sitting on your ass.” nico grumbled.

little fucker. leo was about to retort when katie shut them both up.

she gave them both a pointed look. “this is going to be a _long_ hike if you two don’t play nice.”

she was right.

they began walking, sticking to the trails beside the strawberry fields, because although it’ll take longer, they won’t be covered in scratches and spurs at the end.

beside him, nico kept shivering. he was stupid for wearing that dumb thin shirt, and leo doesn’t _like_ to reward stupid, but he wordlessly gave him the jacket off his back anyway. nico accepted it graciously.

leo pretended like the weather didn’t affect him. he wasn’t _supposed_ to feel anything but warm. that was his shtick. but ever since he came back from the dead, everything had felt a bit more....stingy. harsh. filled with the incessant need to cover up his skin, like some kind of itch. 

h e supposes this is what cold felt like, and he understands why so many poets write about it now. it was horrible.

leo wishes he didn’t have to feel it. _wishes_ he could go back. it was as if dying the way he did stole all the flames he had left in his body, his internal furnace.

leo’s teeth chattered, another symptom of this “ _cold_ ”. it was a weird feeling, like he was chewing gum without the gum.

ahead of him, katie stopped walking. “here we are.” 

what laid before her was at least one square mile of dying land. the grass was withered, matted, and an ugly shade of muddy grey-brown. a few decaying trees and bushes were sprinkled throughout, their branches leaf-less, but for the most part it was a barren wasteland. 

feet filled with lead, leo dragged his sorry shivering ass to the center of the field. 

there was a moment of calm, as nico and katie backed up, rubbing their frigid shoulders. 

breathe in. breathe out. 

leo did his thing.

flames poured out around his small frame, rippling and consuming everything in his path. the grass seethed as the fire touched it’s frozen blades, popping and sizzling and evaporating, all within a second.

leo held his arms out, fingertips extended towards the ground. the fire didn’t actually _need_ to come from his fingertips anymore, leo could conjure it spontaneously as long as he was nearby, but using his hands stabilized it. like holding your arms out while walking on a balance beam. 

the flames jumped and howled with freedom, a thousand little demons set free. the square mile of dead field was ablaze in just a few seconds, and red was all you could see. 

it was destruction. barely controlled chaos. there was no way around it. 

leo watched it with somber eyes. he is the figure of destruction. 

then, with a flick of his hands, leo extinguished it all. the ground looked like packed coal, everything the same shade of charred, black ink. against the grey skies, the world looked like someone had scribbled it into life with graphite dusted fingers.

the silence was deafening. leo turns back around, feet crunching on the charred ground. 

katie and nico look at him with wide eyes. no matter how much he does it, or how much people tell him they’re used to it, they never really are. always they look at leo like he’s some sort of dangerous creature. always. 

then, thats over too. katie smiles warily. “well, shit. that was...cool. and i’m not cold anymore.”

nico nodded his head in agreement. 

he walks back over to them and gets a slap on the back from katie. “thanks.” she smiles cheekily. 

“welcome. though, uh, i think i may have gone over, like, where you wanted me to burn.”

she shrugged and brushed it off, walking back towards camp. leo had no choice but to follow her.

nico hung back and walked alongside leo. which is concerning for many reasons, but mainly because he never does that unless he’s about to tell leo someone died or was about to. he knows that from experience.

the boy’s cheeks were pink with the cold, which was just about the only perk of this weather. it was cute. 

nico averted his eyes. “i’ve never seen you use your fire that much before. i.... didn’t know you could do that.”

leo shrugged and messed with one of his brown curls, curling up on himself, though he didn’t know it. leo _did_ notice that the end of his sleeve was singed though. “i just never really need to use it that much s’all.”

“still. it was pretty impressive.” nico praised. 

they lapsed into silence again. leo didn’t like it. it reminded him of when they travelled together, looking for.... jason. 

leo can’t have any more silence. he _won’t_ have it. not with _him_ , at least. because—

”i saw your bag.” nico said.

leo froze. he stopped walking and started squeezing the life out of the piece of hair still clutched in his hand. 

“what do you mean?”

”your bag. the one you chucked into the closet when we came in for you. i saw it.” nico looked leo in the eyes. leo wished he wouldn’t do that. nico was so weird. _weird weird weird._ leo didn’t understand him.“are you planning on leaving?”

backing up, leo forced his hands out of his hair out of embarrassment. 

“why do you fucking care?” he retorted.

nico’s face took on a scowl, his eyes confused and hurt. “maybe i don’t. forget i asked about it.”

leo rolled his eyes. there he goes again, being weird. weirdos.... _never trust weirdo’s like nico_ , leo mentally notes.

”are you guy’s coming?” katies’s voice pulled them both back to earth. 

both boys jogged to catch up with her, breaking out of the thistle bushes and back to the courtyard of camp. 

leo went back to his cabin. and he looked at the duffel he shoved into the closet. the closet door was open just a bit, as nico described. 

the picture of him and piper and jason pokes out at the top. huge smiles spread on their faces, they looked so _young_. leo avoids jason’s toothy grin and matching dimples. that ship has sailed. can’t do anything there. 

he looks to piper instead. the picture was so old she still had her silly feather braids and dumb puffer jacket. _piper_. 

leo wants to leave. _needs_ to leave. he needs to escape almost as much as he needs to _breathe_. it’s coded into his brain and dna, and all of his instincts tell him to _run_. 

leo sighs, placing the picture carefully into the duffel, he shuts the closet door. he needs to stay. _stay_. for piper. 


End file.
